the world according to sherimaven

Well, there are so many things really.

Oh, hello Friday...it's been a dizzyingly busy week here in Los Angeles and looking forward to to spending the weekend here. I have to say that LA makes me very happy- I do love it here, and find myself moved by this city's beautiful weather, midday light, and weirdness. It's a wonderful place and I feel lucky to have so many dear friends here- some of my favorite people, in fact. But it will never be home for me, and that's that.

Somhow I am always very much aware of my outsider status here- an interloper of sorts dabbling in things in which I don't belong, and I definitely don't belong here. I have always felt that way here, even though I have been here so many times- and I guess it's no surprise that people here always tell me "you're very New York" when they meet me- it's a bit too enlightened out here for me, too conscious, yet somehow too removed from reality. I simply don't fit in here, as much as I do love the style here- no town does casual chic better than LA and that's a fact.Oh, and people have been super friendly here this trip- usually Angelenos are not that way. The staff at the Roosevelt are dear. If you come here, consider it- very lovely people here and interesting history- it's rumored Marilyn Monroe's ghost is bringing sexy back in one of the rooms here. And places like Topanga Canyon and Malibu and the Los Feliz hills are nothing short of spectacular, for their coolness and beauty and outstanding real estate. It's stellar.

Although LA has all of the ingredients to be my kind of town (great food, amazing shopping, cool style, loads to do, people hustling to live the dream), it's simply not urban enough. LA is one big suburb and I'll hear none of it if you try to convince me otherwise. And the sheer sprawl of this city is daunting- one can almost feel a bit Lewis or Clark just trying to go from East to West- the isolation of being trapped in a car all day does not appeal, and when you watch people in their cars during the crush of rush hour, you can see that it's a fairly miserable endeavor. I'm not down. And though I do dig on the people here, there's a peculiar vacancy that makes me feel like I'm on another planet- please stop smiling in this excruciatingly painful 6 am ashtanga class. The blissed out thing is simply not my trip.I guess I'm just more Biggie and less Tupac. I'm so East it hurts.

I'm not even sure where I'm going with this, but I guess it's to say that the only place that really ever feels like home, where I feel welcomed with open arms, where I connect to the rhythym and the pace and the soul city walking is New York. Being here affirms that for me, though I question my judgement from time to time as the weather here is bloody perfection. Besides that, I'm pretty stoked to get back to Miami,pack all of my possessions, and move back to the only place where I feel like I have true insider status, a place that is instinctively all mine, though not for everyone. In the meantime, I'm going to enjoy LA- we are scouting on the PCH today and around Malibu so could very much be worse...I hope you find your place this weekend that makes you feel at home- a sense of place is important in this rather topsy turvy moment we are having...cause that's what's up this I love LA but I FUCKING LOVE NEW YORK kind of Friday in the City of Angels. XO

PS how great is this sweatshirt- sums it up for me:

 

Good morning, my little pretties. I have to say I adore waking up in LA, it never gets old.  My room overlooks Hollywood Boulevard, where everybody's a dreamer, and everybody's a star, or at least according to Ray Davies, that is. But I do love the broad avenues of LA leading into the hills of Holly...amazing. And sunny, of course.

I'm sure I'll be prone to some more LA infatuation for the days to come, I'm here for a hot minute and will have lots to say, most likely. But before I do, I have to share this beautiful purse from Celine's resort collection, that makes my insides hurt. A good hurt...

I am just loving the snappiness of this neonish pink- it could almost be a neutral and would be great with black, white, grey, beige, khaki,and everything in between- would also love it with some orange or a flurry of prints...It's like an instant antidepressant for the soul, and a sure jolt to a tired wardrobe.  I want...

And for further evidence that pink can be divine and not too Tri Delt, check out these photos for inspiration (love it for lingerie, even though the below is a bathing suit, and how cute is that shot of the woman with the jacket over her shoulders? Love.)

- I myself could never wear true pink, or pastel pink, but adore the more fuschia and jewel toned versions- and the pink of India is one of my favorite colors on Earth- I find it transcendent. It's gorgeous in the home too, as you can see.

And speaking of which, I gotta bounce. It's going to be a fun day but have loads to do- all the love, cause that's what's up this prettily pink Wednesday in LA, baby. XO

Good morning, my Tuesday. Oh how I would love to gym- but no time, like none at all.There's packing and much work to do.

I was thinking last night about how much I love being a freelancer- for my whole career I have dreamt about having a job that allows me to explore everything I'm interested in, and the list is long. I tried many things in my career- photo repping, trendspotting, art buying,  PR, and a little bit of this, and a little bit of that.  At times I worried that I was a bit of a Jill of all trades (let's leave out the master of none bit, shall we?) and a person who simply couldn't commit when it came to one path. And I used to make fun of people that had what I am now calling the "slash effect" in their title- whether it was model/actress or writer/producer- in olden days the slash effect made people seem all over the place, non-specialized, and too general.

And then I had the fortune to work at an agency that was run by someone who celebrated the notion of being a generalist- that in today's world, it's important to know how to do a little bit of everything. And though Mr. Bogusky believed that, I'm not sure agency life is suited for someone like me- I was a bit of a square peg and couldn't settle into one thing there- though I loved producing, I wanted more- I wanted a chance to write, to think, to strategize, and maybe even do some things in between that defied a title or a department or a discipline. And that's why I went out on my own.

I went rogue because I like to dip my toes. In familiar waters and those uncharted. Call me a  bit of a career agnostic- why settle for one thing if you want so much more and can offer so much more?

Tonight I will fly to LA to produce a photo shoot for some dear friends who I can't wait to see and work with again, yet I'm also doing some writing for another client and loving every minute of that too. Apparently not all of us want to only do one thing for the rest of our lives, and there's reason for that. I think we've entered an era in our history where we're constantly redefining "value"- not just in terms of the essential things we need for a happy life, but in terms of what all of us can contribute., and how we can be more valuable to employers and potential career partners- the more we know how to do, the better.  And with little job security these days and the notion of spending a lifetime at a company and getting a gold watch when we retire (Retire? Job security? Not anymore), it's a pretty wonderful time to be a generalist, and I'm beyond enjoying exploring all the avenues that are streteched wide in front of me. My message to those of you who are feeling like it's time to explore, or maybe you're just at the beginning of your career journey and wondering why you keep jumping around, looking for that career that makes you feel transcendent, recalibrate and realize that there is nothing wrong with checking stuff out- how many of us are only good at one thing, really? Or love one thing enough to only do that? My interests and thirst for days filled with interesting projects that challenge my skills are boundless- I'm a frequent toe dipper and looking forward to many slashes in my title, or better still, not having one.

I feel lucky that enough people have noticed what I have to offer, and am grateful for those considering me for work and taking this journey of generalist with me. And if you're looking for someone that can sell, promote, produce, and turn a phrase, I may just be your girl. And all of these items are available a la carte, or all at once. That's just how mavens do.

I am excited to move back to New York and keep moving forward. I may know how to do a lot of things, but one thing is a common thread- I simply want to do good work that inspires me, with smart people, regardless of what skill set I'm employing on the daily. And yea, I'm not grandiose enough to think I can do anything math or science related, and I'm probably not going to be a chef or Broadway dancer anytime soon, but you never know. I could always dip a toe and see how the water feels...I highly recommend trying out the slash effect or freelance life for a while- "free" being the operative word- free to explore all those things you just know you can do but were too tied down to think about. And I may end up full time again somehwere, someday, but right here, right now I can't wait to keep doing what I'm doing, and it's been a long time since I've felt like that.

Go forth and dip that toe. The water's nice in here. And that, THAT, is what's up this mixed bag maveny Tuesday in the MIA. Celebrate your wide net today. It'll do ya right. XO

Good morning, Monday...weekend was full of work and laundry and work and laundry and worrying about the apartment and laundry. As someone whose home is beyond important to her, I can't help but feel completely upside down these days- we put in an application on an apartment but realized last night it's not for us- neither of us was that excited about it, and since we spend more time at home than anywhere else these days, it made no sense to move into a place that did not feel right.Now I am concerned we are going to be gypsies, thus the photo above. And although chic and bohemain and unfussy, I am not much of a wandering minstrel. Oh, I need a home. Stat. Finding a home in the city is maddening.

New York is funny that way, though. You almost always have to give up something to live somewhere nice- whether the closets are too small, the bathroom sucks, or the apartment faces a brick wall or a street that is way too busy. Or like one apartment we fell in love with, the apartment is on the street, literally (think converted storefront).

I am off to LA tomorrow for a project but hoping something wil click soon in our search- we definitely are all about Brooklyn now- Brooklyn Heights, Cobble Hill, Carroll Gardens. I do so love it there and lived there many moons ago and always had a fondness for that tree lined, pretty area. Now with Trader Joe's...gotta love that. Oh, and a Barneys COOP.

So forgive me if my posts are apartment obsessed of late- and if you hear of anything great, do let me know. I know we'll find something but probably not sleeping until we do...cause that's what's up this in need of a home kind of Monday in the MIA. All the love. XO

 

Bang bang shoot shoot..still looking...not easy this.

My home is beyond important to me, as I am now a bit of an elder and need a nice place to nest.

All the love- exhausted but have learned that Williamsburg is not my spot, pre war buildings have bigger closets and more interesting layouts, and garden apartment means basement. All is not lost though-  we are close to securing a pretty cool prewar pad in Brooklyn Heights with insane views and a blcok off the Promenade...stay tuned. It just keeps goin', cause that's what's up this much in need of a foot rub, hot toddy, and nap kind of Thursday in the 212. XO

 

S.

Good afternoon, Wednesday. It is Wednesday, right? Damn.

So all this talk of apartment hunting is probably boring you to tears- I am beyond knackered, my feet are killing me, and my shins are begging for mercy. I have found something that may be perfect for us, so fingers crossed...and toes. And anything else you want to cross for that matter.

And today being such a crappy weather day, I found myself mid search seeking shelter from the storm (as well as a respite from the hunt) in my favorite retail refuge- good old original 59th Street Bloomingdales. How I love that place...I find it incredibly comforting and wonderful- everyone who works there is super friendly and helpufl- and they've really redone the place- it looks amazing now and the second floor rivals Barney's in its coolness.

And they now haveTom Ford fragrances- which PS- are to absolutely kill and/or die for. I am a devout sucker for scent- I would never leave the house without perfume- it's on my list of do nots and smelling good seems to be the best revenge, as well as a lifelong "must" of mine. I am prone to vanilla scents of all kind- I suppose sweet is my thing  and smelling like dessert is never bad. I'm a bit of a foodie when it comes to scent.

But the one scent that had me at first spritz was Mr. Ford's fantastic Tobacco Vanilla- I quite frankly have never smelled anything like it- heady, sweet, and sexy and indescribly delicious all at once. The woman behind the counter said that I'm the type of girl who goes for this scent- because I look the part, whatever that means...maybe a touch masculine/funky/femme all at once I gather. I must have it- it's expensive as hell but somehow worth it...ladies- if you want men to drop at your feet and be rendered defenseless, buy this. Now. Yea its a bit masculine, but changes when it interacts with your estrogen, or at least it did for me. It's pretty much the sexiest thing I have ever smelled. I have been sniffing at my writsts all day to get a whiff-it's unreal. There is no way anyone will resist you when you have this on- I kid you not. Heavenly....Mr. Ford sure knows a thing or two about a thing or two when it comes to sexiness. Here is the way Neiman Marcus described the notes on its site:

A modern take on an old world men's club. A smooth oriental, Tobacco Vanille opens immediately with opulent essences of tobacco leaf and aromatic spice notes. The heart unfolds with creamy tonka bean, tobacco flower, vanilla and cocoa, and finishes with a dry fruit accord, enriched with sweet wood sap.

And though I had to walk away from this divine orgasm of a fragrance, I also resisted buying a  leopoard hair purse because I had to-  Bloomies is so much fun, and  I will own that Tobacco Vanilla yet- it's exquisite. (Much like coffe shops in Amsterdam, you must do a quick spin through Bloomingdales and then get on out of there.. If you are there longer than an hour dizziness sets in, and it's no bueno- get your fix and leave).

Cause that's what's up this rainy yet lovely smelling Thursday in the MIA.Keep calm and smell delicious. Tomorrow the hunt continues in Brooklyn.  XO

 

UPDATE: IT'S WEDNESDAY AND I AM NOT IN THE MIA BUT IN THE NYC. See how scrambled my brain is? Oy....

Good morning, Tuesday. Soul cycled again this am and kind of knackered now...rainy days and apartment hunting not gonna get me down. Back 'atcha later, have to dash...cause that's what's up this keeping my head up kind of Tuesday in the 212. XO

Good evening, Monday…I’ve just terra firma’ed my way into New York City, and the intrepid apartment search has begun. Today had me looking downtown, which had me decidedly downtrodden. The smell of those garbage chute elevators alone...nope. Can't do it. Uptown or Brooklyn looking like better bets. Admittedly, I experienced that old New York brand of defeat and despair today- but then I went to Soul Cycle and got over it when the teacher played "The Choice of Yours" by the Black Sheep at ear splitting decibels. I so needed that. Good lookin' out Soul Cycle. You always save my ass.

This past weekend was a heady whirlwind, spent in New Orleans, Louisiana. My recently departed uncle lived there for many years- he was quite a character- a musician, a bon vivant, a bit more than left of center. And going there this past weekend, I once again got swept up in this fantastic city- you literally can’t move a single muscle without hearing music or laughter.  New Orleans simply oozes charm out of every pore, every fleur de lis’ed motifed shop window, and every expressive face perched on Jackson  Square, or every happy camper smiling from yet another wrought iron balcony. New Orleans is a city of decadence- and you know how much this maven loves to indulge. The stores are filled with things you simply don’t need, but very much want, and the food is filled with ingredients you surely shouldn’t eat, but must.  And the drinking? Ooh the drinking. It’s not to be trifled with. Prepare to sleep in- no gym for you in the am after a night spent listening to old jazz lords in some dark bar.  I love that New Orleans is a town of wants and not needs, that the very sound of that syrupy drawl makes me swoon (have always had a crush on Harry Connick,Jr.) , and that the resilience of the people there got them through Katrina. It was inspiring to see the city so alive with revelers and tourists- so glad to see the power of that town resonating with so many looking to just have some bloody fun in times like these. The people here even make a funeral a party -a celebration of life as opposed to something utterly more depressing (the photo above is of a funeral procession).

I also got to see the homes Brad Pitt built in the 9^th Ward- outstanding, modern, and respectful. You can still feel the resurrection happening, but there’s hope there now and a pride in what has been done. Amazing what the human spirit can achieve.  I’m not sure why our government can’t create programs like these, or more powerful people like Mr. Pitt can’t step up and get involved- though I suppose that’s why we’re officially occupied, isn’t it? There’s much to do and not enough doers. Hopefully our next generation will make a difference. But politics aside and like in every cool city, there was shopping to be done, and naturally, I did it. Call my streetcar desire- I simply had to partake.

In terms of shopping, Magazine Street offered some fantastic options- such as the new aviary themed perfumer Avery Fine Perfumery I had just read about- full of heady (albeit pricey) scents that are at once familiar and like nothing you’ve smelled before. Further on down the street we found lovely vintage, amazing home furnishings and Indian bedspreads, and lovely little restaurants and coffee shops. But back in the Quarter was perhaps my favorite spot- Fleur de Paris- think Agent Provacateur (pink and black theme, hot salesgirls that skew goth/Dita Von Teeseish) mixed with a nod to vintage silhouettes- I was hearting a little black babydoll cocktail dress with jeweled straps, but settled on a very snug little fur vest to nip in all of those oversized silk shirts I’ve been prone to buying of late. They’ve also got the most insane collection of millinery I have ever seen- hats for every mood, event, or taste. Plus a great selection of sexy stockings – totally girly but in a good way. It’s a must if you are in the Quarter and looking for a get up for your go.

And the impromptu nature of New Orleans is the best part- not quite ready to go to bed after a big meal, David and I caught a killer set of old jazz right on Bourbon Street- and the saints came marching in as we sipped on cocktails and realized how blessed we were to hang out in a city full of so much soul. Soul and Sazerac that is. 

A word on Sazerac- it’s a lovely little potent cocktail that goes down very well and warms the innards. If you want one, there is no better place to procure one than the Sazerac Bar in the very grand Roosevelt Hotel. Those that know me know I am mad for a hotel bar- my favorite type of drinking establishment there is. And especially one that is named for the cocktail it invented. It’s a beautiful bar, dark and woody and full of bartenders that know a thing or two. The night we were there there was a wedding in the hotel, so the men were toasting each other in tuxes and the ladies were true to their Southern roots in pretty dresses and girly shoes. I loved every second of it- the bar is a fantastic indulgence and one of the reasons I love the South- the tradition, the service, the elegance- the manners. Welcome to my new favorite bar in America. Want to meet me there? If you invite me, I can almost guarantee you I will always be up for it. I can almost guarantee that. It's now my favorite bar in America.

 

 And then to top things off, David’s father got us a res at Commander’s Palace, at the chef’s table, where you eat in the kitchen a la Goodfellas, but much more dignified. The chef waits on you hand and foot and mouth- after taking a brief survey of your likes and dislikes, you are treated to about 10 course of deliciousness, none of it healthy, all of it absolutely beyond belief delicious. And then the desserts come, as if you needed more proof of G-d.  What an amazing experience to eat in a place where many of the staff have spent their whole careers- a true testament to this foodie temple- have rarely had service like that, and the bordelaise sauce on the escargots didn’t suck neither. Had someone offered to take me out back and shoot me after this meal, I’m not sure I would have objected- mostly because I couldn’t move, but also because I would have died happy. Oh and it's across the street from the cemetery where Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda bugged out on acid in "Easy Rider". Yup.

 

I’ve been thinking so much lately about this pressure to be Type A, to succeed, to be skinny, to be perfect. New Orleans is the antidote to all of that- come as you are, darlings.  Nobody judging, everybody there to have a good time and enjoy life for a change. Being a glutton once in a while is a necessary part of life for me- I truly am a hedonist and need to eat, drink, and be merry from time to time- and so do you, so get on with it. If you’ve never had a beignet, some gumbo, or a Sazerac- get thee to  N'awlins.  It’s important to your growth as a human and you owe it to your overscheduled, over exercised, overworked self. Get over it and go. More tomorrow from the apartment hunting front, but that’s what’s up this still in the mood for Mardi Gras kind of Monday in the 212. Laisser les bon temps rouler. XO

 

 

 

Good morning, chickens. It's Friday and I'm here in New Orleans enjoying my time- staying right about at Bourbon and Toulouse, and the Quarter is alive and well with revelers and debauchery into the wee hours. I'm happy to see so many people enjoying themselves here- New Orleans is beyond a party town - it's magic, it's soulful, it's full of character and charm and decadent food and it's very much full of life again. I do so love it here, and am going to check out the Ninth Ward today- wanting to see Brad Pitt's handiwork and also see with my own eyes what Katrina did.

As a woman who bleeds Northeast and Yankee, it's strange how much I adore being in the South. There is something about the gentility and the manners and the traditions that I find utterly charming, and there's a soulfulness to the people in this part of the country that I feel is "real" and a part of America nobody should miss. And the South has a high tolerance for eccentricity- everyone in New Orleans is way left of center and everyone is cool with it, and I've noticed that in other parts of the South as well- they like 'em a bit weird. I'm not sure why people from Europe only seem to come to New York and LA and Miami-  if you have never been down South and are not American born, you shouldn't miss it. For the food alone- yesterday found me in a lovely courtyard, a gentle breeze, and possibly the best plate of gumbo I have ever been honored to eat. Sure it took a little longer to get it, but that's the Southern way- it's never bad service, it's simply slower, more relaxed, easy. And then there were the dozens of oysters- I love me some iodine, I really do.

And you can't walk more than half a block in this town without hearing music of some kind- there's something about a place that is so deeply entrenched in music that is transformational, that allows people to move on, that lets people let loose and have fun and dance together. It's wonderful. And that New Orleans accent has always had me. I am enchanted by it. Wish it was mine.

Looking forward to spending more time here this weekend- weather is perfect and I'm off to Du Monde for the best coffee around...may sneak a beignet too. Yum. Cause that's what's up this deep fried Friday in the NOLA. Y'all come back Monday to read more, ya hear? XO

Oh, hello Thursday. I am high in the sky, embarking on a lovely weekend away- and then straight back to Miami on Sunday and on a plane Monday am to New York. So today I will wistfully and soulfully yet vapidly grab at my earring, donned in an ornamental sheath dress, andn a duo of cuff, and generally look forward to a weekend of fun. If you all promise to (mis)behave, I may just write about my travels. Darlings, life is good. LIFE IS GOOD, so all the love- cause that's what's up this thoroughly fantastic Thursday, 30,000 feet in the air. All the love, kittens. From me to you and back again. XO